Which Alters When It Alteration Finds
by LoveSnape
Summary: It is April of 1980. Lily and Severus' falling-out haunts her, though she tries to bury it. Severus, meanwhile, lives a live of suffering. His only hope of redemption lies in rekindling the severed ties of their friendship.
1. Chocolate Ice Cream

_Author's Notes: This was originally written for the LiveJournal Snape/Lily exchange, for blindsabre. It should be duly noted that any recognizable characters or settings are not mine. Kudos for those who know where the title comes from. Thanks so much to esmestrella for beta reading._

What must it be like?

How does he live with himself, believing there is no one to care for him?

_You are only as good as your talent and intellect_; that's what he used to tell me, back when we were growing ever more distant.

_It was not for anyone else that you learned and grew._

The only person who cares about you is yourself.

Does he honestly believe that now?

It had not always been this way. There was a time, years ago now, when he had believed that there was a person he could come to, could cherish, could talk of nothing and everything with.

But I am long dead and gone.

And now, he is lost.

Lily couldn't help but sigh in dejection. Walking around the house did little to alleviate her melancholic resentment. There was only so much she could clean before it became anal-retentive. And it wasn't as though she had too many possessions. Lily was not a very materialistic woman. It had certainly taken a while to get James to see eye-to-eye on that score, considering his distinctly wealthy, pureblood upbringing. Although, she supposed, her simplistic taste would most likely change soon, what with the baby and all. She figured the house would soon be full of rattles, pacifiers, stuffed bears, and all other sorts of baby essentials.

Lily frowned and ran a hand over her swollen belly. Stupid common sense; it was always getting in the way with deciding arguments. Her Gryffindor stubbornness remained prevalent throughout the day after she had debated with James whether she could go on duty for the Order that day. It was her week, after all! She only wanted to do her part to help in the fight against Voldemort. She continued to withhold logical judgment on the matter. So what if she was nearing her third trimester?

"There's no telling what sort of danger there is at this point in the war, sweetheart," James had protested. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can take care of myself," Lily had retorted. "I'm just as good, if not better, at Defense than you are."

"Lily, please think about the baby. You can't be overexerting yourself by flouncing without a second thought into whatever you think might or might not be dangerous—not this late in the pregnancy."

Her face had darkened significantly at that. "Are you saying that just because I've got a baby to make, I'm not competent to fend for myself?"

His hesitation set her off, and she'd gone on quite a tirade about how stupid men were, her superior skills with a wand, how the baby was his idea too, that no, she was not being unreasonable, how stupid that cowlick on the back of his head made him look, and the fact that she was perfectly calm and controlled in the face of dire situations. Once she'd finished, she had promptly burst into tears.

It was a good thing that James gave good hugs.

"I know you're a brilliant witch, love. I've known that from our first day at Hogwarts. It's just that your magic has been sporadic as of late. It has nothing to do with the competency of your skills, it's just—"

"—because of my hormones, I know." She sniffled and wiped her eyes, breaking the hug. "Fine," she acquiesced grudgingly, "I won't go, but only because of the baby. I don't care about Voldemort's goons—I could take whatever they threw at me—but who knows who else I'd take down with me, right?" She chuckled and hiccoughed.

"Of course, darling. Thank you for seeing reason." He flashed her a cheeky smile; she glared. "I'll see you tonight."

James kissed her lightly and tucked a lock of stray fire behind her ear, his boyish grin stretched wide. "Make dinner, will you? Molly's cooking is great and all, but I'm in the mood for your delectable dishes." He winked and kissed her again.

Lily grimaced against his lips. "If you mean macaroni and overcooked broccoli, then great."

James's laugher was buoyant, and she couldn't hold back the accompanying smile that crept onto her freckled face. He laughed as though he hadn't a care in the world. There mightn't have been such thing as a power-bent Dark Lord, or Death Eaters, or an incompetent Ministry; no taxes, no bills to pay, no late nights at work. It was moments like these when her heart swelled and she could smile without worry. The lines of distress that seemed to invariably enslave their faces disappeared. It was in these moments that she felt wholly comforted and loved. He praised her with his hazel eyes, looked at her as if there truly was no one else in the world.

What dulled the feeling was that he was not the first to make her feel this way.

Lily lightly pushed James toward the door, admonishing him playfully that he'd be late and what would Albus say if his best Auror wasn't there to show off?

"You promise you'll make macaroni?" he asked, leaning an arm against the doorframe outside.

"Well…"

He gave his best puppy-dog look, even stooping so low as to pout his lower lip.

Lily quirked an eyebrow. "Work on it," she drawled. "Sirius is way better than you."

James rolled his eyes. "Aw, gee, Lil, I wonder why?"

She swatted his arm. "Go, already!"

James smirked and kissed her, hesitated for a moment, then stooped down and kissed her protruding belly. "Bye, little man. Guard the house while I'm out."

Lily gave James a withering look. "It could be a girl, you know."

He smiled that boyish grin again. "It's a boy, I know it." He tapped his head with his forefinger, because that, of course, proved it.

Lily shook her head and shooed him away. James mouthed, "I love you." Lily beamed.

He turned on the spot, and when Lily closed the door with a sigh, she could still hear the ringing _crack_ from her husband's Apparition.

And now, hours later, there she stood in the living room, with insistent kicks from her belly as her only company. "Feed me!" they seemed to whine. She supposed it wasn't surprising that her own stomach chose that moment to growl indignantly.

Lily frowned. She knew it wouldn't be safe to go out and eat, and she really didn't want to cook anything now. It was shameful enough that she had to that evening. Lily shook her head. She just couldn't understand how James thought her horrific cooking to be at all comparable to Molly Weasley's.

She wasn't in the mood for leftovers or any sort of savory anything. So, after half-heartedly checking the pantry for something that might appease both her and the baby and affirming that indeed there was nothing, she dashed to the ice box and searched fervently for the perfect mood lifter.

Aha! A devilish grin unfurled on her lips. Feeling far too pleased with herself, she took out a vat of chocolate ice cream.

A quick Summoning Charm later found her equipped with a large soup spoon with her wand safely stowed in the pocket of her bathrobe. As swiftly as she was able—which, admittedly, did not quite qualify as "swift"—she was situating herself in her chair, squirming to attain the perfect position. She was soon scooping a very substantial amount of the rich dessert onto her awaiting spoon.

Lily stared at the ice cream, reveling in the anticipation of tasting. There had to be some sort of miracle properties in chocolate. Even if science had not proven it, she was positive that every woman on the planet would agree with her. Slowly, deliberately, she took the bite.

Oh, but this was euphoria.

The way the chocolate utterly melted on her palate, how the rich, sophisticated cream seemed to glide through her mouth, eliciting such contentment, such pleasure. Not to mention the brisk smell of it, which delighted her senses like a fickle wind through an autumn tree. The cool of the ice cream sent thrilling chills through her achy body like an errant spill of milk.

Lily couldn't help but smile drunkenly. She scooped and took another bite. There were new flavors now, of winter nights and blood-red sunsets. She tasted happiness, tantalizing roses, and lazy Sunday mornings.

She tasted his voice. She took another bite. That silky velvet of animated discussion, and the rich distinguishable flavor that seemed all-consuming, as when he whispered in her ear. The warmth of the melting chocolate tantalized her taste buds and reminded her of the hours on end that they had simply talked. Another bite. She tasted him again. Tasted his glittering eyes as he laughed, his stern-set mouth and frowning brow, his full cheeks that had hollowed over the years, and his overbearing nose. She tasted his laugh, his wit, and his warmth when he held her close.

Lily froze with the spoon again at her lips, a doe caught in the headlights. There was suddenly something very hard and painful pressing against her throat. She swallowed with difficulty, but the cool did not quell the acid flame that had ignited deep within her.

She stared at the spoon, but it seemed only to mock her. She stared and stared, trying to banish the feelings that were threatening to resurface, those which she had sworn she would not relive.

She stared until she could do so no longer, until her guilt threatened to envelop her. She hastily Banished the container of unbidden memories and went to the sink to rinse out her mouth. Her face burned with shame even as the icy water streamed through her parted lips and down her chin.

Wash away, she willed. Please, go away.

She wiped her mouth dry and turned off the tap. She felt refreshed, but still the taste of him lingered like a parasite. It was driving her into hysterics. Desperately, she searched for something, anything that might help.

When nothing lent itself to her as a possibility, and Lily had begun to feel all the more frantic, she pulled out her wand and acted on instinct. "_Scourgify!_" she cried, her voice tainted with anxious fear. The sickening tang of soap invaded her mouth like a plague.

The taste seemed to act as a catalyst, and the barriers that she had been trying desperately to hold in place crumbled utterly and tears began to flow hot and fast down her cheeks.

Lily coughed and spluttered, fumbling to turn on the tap once more. Scrabbling as though blind, she washed out her mouth and the suds choking her. How could she have been so stupid?

When she was confident that she could breathe normally again, she leaned against the sink and shuddered heavily. Lily felt even her ears flush in humiliation, and _she_ didn't have a crowd of onlookers jeering at her.

The scene from five years ago replayed as though sped up until she recalled that terrible utterance: "Mudblood."

The word seemed to echo around her, an ethereal slur.

Lily stared unseeing at the counter top, the sink still on and flowing from the faucet.

Merlin.

How would her life have been different if not for that day? Her hand drifted to her swollen belly, wondering….

Damn it! What was she, sixteen again? She couldn't afford to linger on the happenings of years ago. How could she possibly feel remorse for him? He had changed. When he called her that unforgivable word, he had already been swept too much into the stupid ideology the Dark Lord projected. She had done the right thing by pushing him out of her life, hadn't she?

And yet… Could she have found a way to salvage their friendship? What if his sniveling apologies had not been all an act and had indeed been his desperate try for forgiveness?

No, she could not have condoned his actions. She was in the right, wasn't she?

Lily ran an aggravated hand through her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. What would James say if he knew she was contemplating the likes of Severus Snape?

And the question she desperately did not want to consider crept cruelly up: What would Severus say?

She bit her lip hard to keep calm. Yet, even so, she could feel a new wave of tears fast approaching. How could she be so selfish? She had others to worry about now, not to mention that she'd soon be a mother. James and she would raise a healthy, happy baby, who would grow up to be damn good at everything.

God damn everything.

And Lily wept.

Through her tears she fumbled to turn off the sink and thereafter stumbled to the couch.

And she wept.

And when she could weep no more, she slipped into welcome unconscious bliss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Which Alters When It Alteration Finds**

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

* * *

Severus stepped silently through the door of the Malfoy manor dining hall, the designated location of the meeting that night. Now that Severus was in the presence of the Dark Lord, he would have to control his anger. It did not bode well for him to linger on the folly of his own mistakes; especially considering he was now under the eye of the greatest Legilimens in the magical world.

Pushing away the anger was the easy part. He had grown quite adept at hiding his emotions, controlling his actions. Well, he sure hoped as much, considering the grueling Occlumency training he forced himself through.

Still… as much as he forced the passionate fury at himself from his conscious contemplation, he could not help the sick pleasure he felt in torturing himself. Why else did he continue to make the same errors, and force himself into submission when he was punished for them? It was not as if he hadn't the capacity and intelligence to fix these misdemeanors.

His faults were uncalled for. He had always been top of his class, always known each lesson days prior to its teaching. And still he could not fulfill his Lord's biddings and wishes to their utmost. Why? he constantly asked himself. Why knowingly put himself into situations he would be punished for? And every time he answered the same. It made him flinch, but the fact of the matter was: he enjoyed it.

Schadenfreude at its finest. He snorted.

They ate, but he did not taste the food. The Dark Lord spoke of Muggles and why they were filth. Severus did well during these parts of the meetings, except whenever the word "Mudblood" was uttered. He had to force himself to not cringe. Every time.

Far too soon they stood in their circle that signified the Dark Lord had news, though whether good or ill, it was impossible to tell.

"Severus," the snake-faced man hissed.

"My Lord." His mask muffled his voice slightly.

"Come forward."

He should be used to the routine by now. Every time it was exactly the same.

Severus stepped forward, identifying himself from the rest of the white-masked Death Eaters.

He swept to his master and knelt to kiss the hem of his robes.

"How does my potion come, Severus?" The voice was chilling and expressionless.

"It is in the final stages of brewing, my master," Severus replied, his head still bowed.

"You said as much last time as well."

"I ran into some… difficulties since last you inquired. But I assure you they have been resolved. I shall have it to you by the end of the week. The moon must fully wane before it is ready."

"Liar."

Damn.

"My lord, I swear to you-–"

"How many times must you swear before it is done, Snape? I will not stand for this any longer."

He uttered the curse and suddenly he was in agony.

He laughed at himself as he writhed under his Lord's penance. This, he sneered with malice, watching himself suffering, this is what you deserve.

His twitching, sweat-soaked body tried to retaliate. I try, he moaned.

No, he snarled back. His feeble body cringed. His towering figure bellowed, No! You do nothing. I need this pleasure, for this and nothing else will quench my thirst, my pain, my guilt.

His body on the floor screamed under the pain of the Dark Lord's curse.

His domineering body leaned over to whisper in his counterpart's ear. This is my love now.

He whimpered.

That's not true.

What did you say to me?

That's not true.

The curse lifted and he lay quaking on the floor.

I do not love this.

A serpentine voice spoke close by, bent close to his ear. "I tire of this game, Severus."

He croaked in reply, "Yes, my lord."

"What must I do to inspire you?"

"Nothing, my lord, I will do better next time."

The Dark Lord chuckled without a trace of humor. "Severus, Severus," he crooned. "You say the same thing every time. Do not tell me you enjoy this torment?"

Snape remained silent. Moments passed and the tension in the room steadily mounted. The air became saturated with it as though filled with a heavy fog.

Finally, Severus heard the soft rustle of robes that signified the Dark Lord standing. "I will not repeat myself again," his cold voice said softly, laced with malice, "I expect more from you, Severus. Do not disappoint me again."

"Yes, my lord," Snape said hoarsely again.

"And let this be a lesson for the rest of you," the Dark Lord now pronounced to the rest of the gathered circle of puppets.

He continued to speak, but Severus's mind was unable to retain what he was saying.

I do not love this, he declared feebly. His opposing mind was silent. This is not love. This is a substitute for what I cannot have. Still, his opposing mind remained silent.

Finally he understood. This was the answer he'd been missing. His masochism replaced – or perhaps represented – his yearning for her love. He supposed he knew it all along, but for reasons unknown, he had not recognized it.

He whispered her name, an act he oft did not permit himself license to.

"Lily…"

And he sank into blissful black.

* * *

When Lily awoke she felt groggy. Although she doubted she had slept long, her body ached and her muscles protested the slightest movement. They whined and bawled as she sat up to dangle her legs over the edge of the couch. Her head swam and she felt almost drunken. Had her skull always been that heavy? It must be her hair… Lily supposed it must be time to get it cut.

Her eyelids similarly protested and it was with great reluctance that they opened. Needless to say her vision was bleary. Lily blinked dumbly a few times to clear the irksome fog and took in the rest of the living room.

Unsurprisingly, nothing had changed or moved. Looking out the window overlooking the street, it didn't appear as though the sun had inched any lower in the sky since she fell asleep. Or at least, the overcast sky was not any less grey.

Any hope of luxury in fully waking was squandered, however, when there came a knock at the front door. Her head snapped to the door she had sealed only hours prior, when James had left. But it was far too early for him to be home. It had to be, what, five hours since he left? He was usually not back from his shift until at least six or seven in the evening. Lily consulted her wristwatch. It was just past three.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. Neither Sirius nor Remus often called at this hour, and she doubted if any other Order members knew where she lived.

As much befuddlement as had overcome Lily, her sense of caution ignited threefold. If it was not James, the likelihood of it being someone she would be happy to see was slim to none.

As quietly as she could, Lily stood and crept to the door, making sure her willow wand was easily accessible as she did so.

Pausing for a moment to steady her breathing, Lily could not help but notice how ridiculous she must look standing in a defensive position in her bathrobe and pyjamas.

She shook her head to rid herself of the slight blush that had blossomed on her cheeks, focusing her mind on the task at hand. Lily pressed her back against the door. Her body was tensed and alert, ready to react at the slightest indication of a threat.

Her fast-beating pulse continued to climb as she awaited a second. A few long and laborious moments passed and she began to fancy the notion that perhaps whoever was calling had left.

Her alertness began to dwindle when still moments more passed and no sign of the perpetrator came again. Lily turned and stared perplexed at the door. She knew that as soon as she let her guard down all Hell would break loose, but this was intriguing her. And besides, her more reckless side pointed out innocently, a little excitement now and then never hurt anyone.

Against her better judgment, and sure she'd regret it later, she whispered the incantation letting down the wards, unbolted the door, and stepped out into the brisk springtime air.

* * *

Severus had been lying awake for what seemed like hours. Though he had done his utmost to come up with convincing reasons he should not, he could not shake the feeling of necessity that continued to delude his mind: he had to see her. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice, he had to see Lily. Now that he had come to terms with himself, he realized the only way he could keep on living was if he could speak to her again.

But how? He was not one to act on impulse, and there were so many things that could go wrong. She was married to James Potter, and he was the last man Severus wanted to see.

Severus stopped. Now that he thought on it, if facing Potter was the price he had to pay to see Lily again, if even for the briefest moment, he could handle it. He'd hurt a lot more than his pride before. His attempt at rolling onto his side detailed that well enough. He winced. There was simply no way he could keep up this kind of battery on his body. His soul was tortured enough as it was, did he really need a broken corpse to go along with it?

The prospect of seeing Lily again lifted his spirits. He would make everything right again. Too long he'd been lost in the shadow of her memory. He would make no more excuses to avoid thinking of her. He would go to Lily, explain to her he knew he messed up, and finally admit his feelings for her.

Severus almost gagged. What an idiotic idea. He sounded like a randy teenage boy. How hopelessly romantic could you get?

Severus groaned.

He would go, yes. Tomorrow morning. But all he was going to do was knock on her door. From there, whatever happened happened.

Shite. He never had been very impulsive.

* * *

When Lily stepped outside, it was with an air akin to an inquisitive cat. She needn't have bothered the caution, however, for as soon as she crossed the threshold her eyes instantly trained to the back of the black-robed figure standing on the sidewalk. He -- for from his stature and build Lily deemed he was indeed a man -– was hunched as though braced for a blow. His robes were long and weathered; he did not appear to be well off. Still, Lily tensed. The fact that he was wearing robes at all meant he was a wizard. She took out her wand and gripped it firmly.

She took a few hesitant steps forward, but when she spoke, her voice was strong and carried easily over the soft breeze. "Can I help you, sir?"

Her words seemed to act as a trigger. The man flinched as though struck and the hands at his sides clenched into tight fists.

Lily's brow knitted slightly and the hold on her wand tightened. If he would not speak, and would not leave, she feared this would end in a clash of wands.

"Sir," she began, but as soon as the lone word escaped her lips, the man straightened and, hesitating for but a second, turned round.

Anything more that Lily might have wanted to say was snuffed. Her voice lodged in her throat and she gasped. There, standing not six feet from her, was Severus Snape.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Which Alters When It Alteration Finds**

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

* * *

It took a while for Lily to fully register whose gaze she was sharing. She could not fathom the notion of standing mere feet from the man whom she had not spoken to and who had haunted her for years. Moments passed and she simply stared, taking in his angular cheeks, so hollowed since last she saw him; his large nose, still as over-bearing as ever; his chiseled lips; curtained black hair; his black eyes that blazed.

Her frozen mind tried to wrap around the impossibility of it all. Severus Snape was standing in front of her house. Severus Snape, the supposed Death Eater, the one she had severed all ties with, had come to call. How much would it take for this to penetrate her stubborn mind? She felt paralyzed by the countless emotions flooding through her, each vying for attention.

Severus simply drank in her form like a man dying of thirst. The hunger in his eyes burned. He stood erect, every muscle tense in an effort to contain his anxious nerves. How he wished he could run to her, sweep her into his arms and simply hold her. How he wished she could accept that.

After yet more moments of stillness, Severus could not hold himself any longer. He could not stand this distance; he had to close the rift between them. The balance of his world seemed to rest on that. Snape took a step forward and raised a shaky hand. This seemed to jerk Lily from her catatonic state and reason finally penetrated her muddled brain.

Her expression darkened suddenly and her lips pulled back into a snarl. How dare he? This was the man who had insulted her in the worst way, who had betrayed her trust and her friendship.

And she was standing here gawking at him.

She turned on her heel and stalked back to the door.

Severus reacted on instinct. As Lily reached the doorway, he bounded up the short walkway. Lily turned to shut the door, but Severus was there, blockading the doorway.

"Please, Lily, let me talk to you." His voice resounded with anguish. How could he convey to her all he needed to say without making himself vulnerable?

"Get out," Lily growled.

"No," was his curt reply.

With all the force she could muster, Lily pushed the door closed. She was stopped half way, however, when the door came to contact with Severus' arm. The sudden halt in momentum jarred Lily. Shocked and angry that she had been stymied, Lily gave and exasperated yell and pushed back against him with all her strength. But still he did not budge. Severus' swollen and tired muscles screamed in protest, but he did not budge.

"Lily, don't be foolish," Snape said, and his voice was suddenly austere even through his pain. "I did not risk my life to be turned away like nothing more than a petty Muggle salesman."

More moments still, and still he did not let up. Lily realized she didn't have the strength to keep this up. He had obviously grown in might and power. Praying this would not end badly, she moved quickly away from the door. Unwittingly, her movement coupled with Severus' continued exertion of force caused the door to swing open fast and hard. Thankfully, Severus caught the handle before it could slam the adjacent wall. Life in Slytherin and the Dark Lord's service had given him fast reflexes, if nothing else.

That Lily had given in surprised Severus and when he stepped softly into the entryway, it was with bemusement. How unlike the Lily he remembered.

After moments of tense silence, Lily turned around. "Why are you here?" she asked bitterly.

"I just want to talk to you," he replied, "as I said before." His voice was not comforting.

"How do I know," Lily spat, "you're not being followed by any of your Death Eater friends? Or that this isn't an ambush?"

"You don't," he said tersely. "You have to trust me."

Lily gazed up into his black eyes. Though they glittered with something she could not define, she saw no malice there. How enigmatic his eyes were; she could so easily be lost in them.

How dearly would she pay if she allowed him entrance, if she permitted him to speak with her? He was the enemy, after all. Supposing she did allow him, would he do as he said, or take the opportunity to use some horrific method of torture to gather information on the Order? And if she sent him away, he'd harbor resentment, which could easily lead to a later attack, seeing as how he somehow knew her address.

But what if he was indeed true to his word? How horrible would it be if they simply talked? There was no harm in that…

Much seemed to hang in the balance of her decision. Was she willing to risk it? There seemed to be much more harm than good in consenting to his company. Even so, there was a burning desire deep down to establish ties again. How dearly she wanted to hear that he was somehow doing good deeds among the horrific things Voldemort's Death Eaters were reported to do. How she wished he could change the image she had carved of him, polished more so by James.

Snape gasped, abruptly ending Lily's internal debate. She blinked into focus to find him swaying on the spot.

"I need to sit down," Snape rasped. A bright sheen of sweat had beaded on his forehead.

"What is it?" Lily asked. The amount of concern in her voice made her uneasy.

Severus responded by slumping against the doorframe. His face was twisted in pain. How could she not have noticed the way Severus had clutched at his side? It was only then that Lily realized his breathing was heavy, fatigued, like he had carried a heavy burden a long distance.

"Shite," Lily muttered. She continued severely, "If this is related to Voldemort in any way, I'll have your head, Severus Snape."

If Severus were paying attention, he might have winced upon hearing her utter his lord's name. As it was, however, he could only groan. Ironically enough, he never realized how agonizing the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse were when he was forcing himself to focus his every ounce of energy on them in order to enjoy it. Ironic that it was more painful to try to ignore it than to envelop himself in it.

Lily wrapped his arm over her shoulder and did her utmost to support him to the couch where she had lain not minutes before. It struck Lily how little time had actually gone by. Though it felt like hours since she had awakened from her short-lived nap, in reality it must have only been ten minutes at most.

Their movement was slow going, for with each step Severus winced and cringed. It did not help that he had forgotten what Lily's close proximity did to his already fast heart rate. To take his mind off the pain, Severus tried to zero his consciousness in on Lily's arm around his back and her waist against his. Perhaps it helped, because it felt like it was no time at all before found himself lying on her couch, his chest heaving and his eyes scrunched tightly closed.

Lily went quickly to the kitchen to dampen a hand towel. A warm compress seemed in order. She tried not to notice the ice cream-streaked spoon in the sink.

She didn't want to wait for the hot water, so she wet the rag and cast a Warming Charm on it as she walked back across the kitchen to the living room.

In the half a minute Lily had gone, Severus had cleared his visage of any hints of discomfort and folded his hands upon his chest. His acts of façade astounded Lily. He might have been simply resting after a lengthy walk.

He flinched somewhat when she applied the warmth of the damp towel to his brow, but he otherwise remained motionless.

Lily could see that Severus had aged quite a bit since she had last seen him years ago. He was no longer a gangly teen, though he was still frighteningly skinny. He was pale, to be sure, but there was a sense of years about his countenance that was striking. He looked like a man forced to grow up before his time. His drab clothing didn't look laughable anymore, but intimidating. Lily couldn't place a finger on why, but he looked regal, powerful.

Lily removed the rag and cast a series of revitalization spells. "What did you want to talk about?"

Since when was she okay having him in her house? Had all her previous caution just been for kicks?

Severus opened his eyes. He side-barred the question with another. "How far along are you?" He kept his voice as deadpan as he could. He didn't want Lily to know the extent of the pain his realization of her pregnancy caused him.

"It's nearly my sixth month now," Lily replied. She eyed him speculatively. How far, she wondered, could she go with this? "James and I had been trying for a long while before the happy news came. I should hope you aren't bothered." Go ahead and imagine that, jerk-off.

If that wasn't pouring salt in the wound, she didn't know what was.

Lily tried to read his reaction, but his face was a mask of indifference.

"I remember seeing the announcement of your wedding in the _Daily Prophet_," he said with derision. "I am sorry I could not give you my best regards before now."

"Well, I'll be sure to pass on your kindness to James, then."

"James isn't here, is he?" He spat the name as though it were something vile.

"You're in luck on that score."

"Quite. I would hate for him to find his precious wife was keeping company with the likes of me."

Both stares were heated. Black fire blazed against emerald green.

"Don't you know any healing charms?" Lily questioned vehemently.

"No, I don't know any healing charms. I decided to not pay attention for that whole two months of class," Severus responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"If you're so goddamned clever why don't you fix yourself up? I hardly need to be doting on you."

"I'm used to it. This is nothing out of the ordinary."

"Ordinary? Then why am I doing this at all? You should have healed yourself by now."

He shrugged. "I suppose I never get around to it." He hardly wanted to broach the subject of his masochistic relationship with himself.

"Gee, the service of the Dark Lord sounds like great fun," said Lily sarcastically.

Severus sat up. "I don't want to talk about it."

Lily scoffed. "What do you want to talk about, then? Isn't that why you came? Aren't you on some mission to gather information on the Order?"

Severus laughed without humor. "Is it so difficult to believe I just want to talk to you, allegiances aside?"

"Quite honestly, Severus, it is," Lily said in exasperation. "Why now of all times? What prompted your interest in my life again?"

Severus simply stared. He didn't know where to begin. For so long he had kept his emotions bottled up. He didn't want to live in Lily's periphery anymore.

"Let's just say I've missed a few too many birthdays," he said quietly, his gaze still trained on hers.

Lily shook her head. "That's not going to cut it, Severus. You don't know the pain you cause in others' lives. I can't imagine you will ever understand the feelings of those people."

She stood from her spot kneeling on the floor and turned to put the dishrag back. She had walked not two steps away when Severus caught her wrist.

"Severus, don't do this."

"I've spilt too many tears on your behalf to walk away now, Lily Evans."

She did not turn. "It's Potter."

"I rest my case."

His grip on her wrist was firm, but it was not uncomfortable. She found the feel of his callused hand on her skin soothing, but she would not admit that aloud.

Then Lily did turn, slowly. Her lips parted ever so slightly and her eyes lit with disbelief. "You didn't come to talk," she said slowly, "you came to confess."

Severus wiped his face clean of emotion, but Lily did not miss the heat that sparked in his midnight eyes.

"No."

"I don't understand," Lily said.

Severus stepped away and paced around the room. He muttered to himself, as though in rebuke. Whatever he was trying to say did seem to be causing him a certain amount of anguish. Lily couldn't imagine he wanted to reestablish their relationship after this long, and after they had gone down such different paths.

"Severus, I don't know what you're trying to say."

"I don't either. I don't even know what I'm doing. I just wanted to see you. I want…" He breathed out a rush of exasperated air. "I want to be a part of your life again."

He stopped and looked at her, eyes beseeching.

"No you don't," Lily blurted. "You hate me. This is all a joke."

Severus laughed in disbelief. "Lily," he said as he stepped in front of her again, "I do not hate you. Quite the contrary."

When had his hand slipped in hers? "I don't -– I don't understand." Boy, was she feeling intelligent.

"Lily…" Severus reached up to push a lock of hair behind her ear. James had done just the same that morning, but he had lacked the passionate intensity behind Severus' movement. Her breath hitched. The lingering feeling of his fingers brushing her cheek set her nerves on edge. This could not be happening. She hated him, and he hated her. That was common knowledge.

Some part of Lily's mind knew what he was going to do, but the notion would not settle. Her pulse raced in her breast, and there was a rushing in her ears.

He bit his bottom lip, suddenly uncertain. The simple act sent her back to her fourth year, when they were studying for their final exams. Lily remembered she was beginning to doze even as he toiled tirelessly on. His eyes were a blur when he read –- she was always surprised by how quickly he retained information. Somehow her head found his shoulder. Her hair cascaded down his back in curls of fire. He said something, she didn't remember what. She turned her head and gazed at his sharp profile. Her soft breath tickled his neck. She remembered she could feel his pulse quicken. He wet his lips unconsciously and took to nibbling on his lower lip, a nervous habit he had adopted.

Why the fleeting memory came to her now, she could hazard a guess. If what she fathomed had been on his mind at that time was true, she could only assume the same was crossing his mind now.

Not moments after the thought passed, she felt unmistakable sensation of lips on hers. His eyes fluttered closed and his hand rose to cradle her cheek. Her grip on his hand tightened. He caressed her as though she was the most precious thing the world could offer. For Severus this was paradise, there could be no greater heaven. Holding Lily felt so right, moving his lips against hers could only be a dream. Never had a moment been so perfect in his life. He was entwined with an angel.

For Severus, it ended too soon. For Lily, not soon enough. Warning lights and alarms blared and Lily broke away gasping.

"Severus, what in the hell--!" She wiped her mouth. "I'm _married_. What do you think you're doing? I'm _pregnant_," she spluttered. Lily ran her hands over her arms; she felt dirty.

Severus immediately closed in and angry walls of fire ignited around him. "Yes," he bit out, "and I'm sure you'll tell me you're happily in love, won't you?"

"Who are you to say I'm not?"

"You can't lie to me, Lily," he sneered. "You never could."

Lily moved to hit him but his lightning reflexes caught her arm and held her still.

"That may be," retaliated Lily. "But I am not the same person you fell in love with, Severus."

She struggled against his iron grip.

Severus straightened to his full height. He was not taller than James, but his presence was far more domineering. "I, however, am the same Severus Snape _you_ fell in love with."

Lily's eyes widened. "You're wrong," she hissed.

"No, Lily. I am afraid you're the one mistaken. I am changed only on the surface. I wear a mask to those around me. Every… waking… moment," he said, emphasizing each word, "I lie to myself, try to convince myself that I turned to the Dark Lord because his vision is right."

Lily was all too aware of the warm hand still holding tight to her raised arm. She could feel his body heat emanating from him and it frightened her.

"I lie to myself because I don't want to believe that the reason lies with you."

"What are you talking about?" she cried. "I have never advocated his views."

"You pushed me away, Lily. You were so caught up in the superficial _society_ people get sucked into that you couldn't see what was right in front of you. As you drifted farther away, I fell to my only other solace, the Dark Arts. But you were not there to tell me not to and I hadn't the will power to cease. And so, as I fell in deeper, you grew ever more distant. What was I to do? You stopped listening. You became so obsessed with your image that you forgot about me. It had always been you fighting the enmity between our Houses, but in the end you simply strengthened it."

Lily gaped. "Don't you dare," she growled. "Don't you dare blame your hate on me. I am not the reason you despised your father. I am not the reason you hate Muggle-borns."

Severus cringed. He lessened his hold on her.

"I don't."

Lily scoffed. "What, you're going to deny that _little incident_ in fifth year didn't happen? Or that it didn't _matter_?"

"No, Lily, far from it!"

"I can't believe you. One minute you blame _me_ for _your_ mistakes, the next you're defending me!"

How quickly the tables seemed to have turned.

His barriers came crashing down. "I am broken!" Severus roared. "I never meant to hurt you, you were all I had. You can't imagine the sorrow I sank into. I pushed away the only reason I had to live." He grabbed her shoulders, almost shook her. How could he make her see?

They shared each other's gaze for a few tense seconds. But she could not bear the misery in his eyes. Lily looked away.

"Lily." His voice dropped to a soft whisper.

"What?" she snapped.

"Look at me. Please."

The desperation in his voice was so prevalent that she couldn't refuse. Damn her Gryffindor tendencies. Slowly she returned her gaze to fixate on his own black, cavernous stare.

"I need you to help me pick up the pieces of my life. Please, try to believe me."

Something shifted inside her and she pulled him to her. Damn her unstable hormones, too. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder, and she clutched his robes in her fists. He quaked in her embrace. Try as he might he could not get close enough to her.

Lily broke the hug and dropped her arms to her sides. "I don't know how I can accept you again, Severus. Our friendship died because of broken promises. I don't know how much more of that I can take. You hurt me that day. I have never been able to overcome it entirely." Her mind returned to that morning, and the chocolate ice cream. How long ago that felt now.

"Lily, after that day, I have never spoken that word again, and I never will."

She sighed in defeat.

Severus stepped away and sat down again on the couch.

Severus ran a finger along his bottom lip in contemplation. When next he spoke, his voice was soft and smooth. "At Hogwarts, we corresponded through letters because we never shared more than two classes together. We wanted to stay close, but the rivalry between our Houses would not permit it. You remember, don't you?"

Lily nodded. She almost did not want to hear him continue. The sound of his velvet voice rekindled memories she had done her utmost to forget. The pain accompanying them had always been too much to bear. They had lived without a care in the world. There was no such thing as Voldemort to them then. There was just them and the world's magic for them to learn. To know that would be brought to an end entirely made her burn.

"Starting in out third year, we adopted pen names so in case anyone found the letters they could not associate them with us. My name was Cody, after your father, and you were Eileen, after my mother. It was a good thing, too, for they were at one point read by one Mary MacDonald, if I remember correctly." There was a smile in his voice, but no trace of one on his face. "You, being the bright, rule-coddling Gryffindor that you were, told her you'd take them to McGonagall straight away. But of course you did nothing of the sort and brought them to me instead."

A ghost of a smile pulled at Lily's lips.

"We laughed at the close call, but you were troubled. You said she had accused the letter-writer of being a bad friend because they were lingering on an argument they had had. She said the right thing to do would have been to drop it entirely. Looking back, it was all very childish, but at the time we were both quite affected by MacDonald's words. We vowed we would be better friends, and never let anything pull us apart, especially not an argument."

His severe gaze was fixated on memories long past. His brow furrowed and his mouth was set in a hard line. Lily watched him for a few moments, studying his harsh, chiseled features. She wondered if they were both drifting in the same recollections.

Lily blinked and looked away. Her face flushed; from what, she could not be sure. She felt betrayed, both by her own memories and Severus speaking as though nothing had changed between them.

She was opening her mouth to speak when Severus sucked in a hiss of pain. Before she could ask, he gripped his left arm and said through gritted teeth, "I'm being called."

It took a moment for Lily to grasp what he was talking about. Then the harsh reality set in and she remembered exactly whom it was she'd been talking to.

"So it's true, then, is it?"

"What?"

"That you work for Voldemort."

Severus grimaced.

"Yes," he said in strained reply.

Lily stood up. "You'd better get going, then."

Severus stood as well, still clutching his arm. "Lily…"

"If you don't go, I will report you to the Order."

He clenched his jaw. This was the end, then. He walked silently to the door and opened it. Before he stepped out, he turned to look at Lily one last time.

Green eyes met black, but her vision was quickly obscured by tears. Silently they fell down her cheeks, streaking her freckled skin with what might have been.

"Go." Her voice cracked.

She thought he looked like he wanted to say more, but in the next second he was gone in a flurry of robes.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Which Alters When It Alteration Finds**

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

The next morning found Lily in the nook reading the _Daily Prophet_.

"James, you were right."

He looked up from the fridge. "Well, duh," James teased, "but what about this time?"

"Voldemort."

Amazing how such a simple word held such power. A split second later, James' demeanor changed entirely. Closing the door to the fridge empty-handed, he quickly pulled up a chair next to Lily and read over her shoulder as she read aloud.

" 'In a surprise attack on a small village in New Castle last night, it has been reported in Muggle newspapers around the area that a family of three has been killed.' " They exchanged identical grave looks. " 'Muggle investigators are flummoxed, but Ministry Aurors are certain this was the work of He Who Must Not Be Named and his infamous Death Eaters. Muggle witness Victoria Edwards says she saw a "bright green sign, like a firework" over the house of the dead. This is obviously an account of You-Know-Who's trademark "Dark Mark," the green skull and snake sign branded to the sky above those he murders. "I was outside letting in my cat, Chairman Meow," continues Victoria…' " But Lily stopped there.

"You said last night you thought Voldemort had targeted a Muggle family, right?"

James' nod was somber as he skimmed the rest of the article.

"But I thought you said you had inside information and that everything was going to be fine?"

"I thought we did!" James ran a hand through his messy mop of hair. "Damn it," he hissed. "Another bad lead…"

"James, honey, don't beat yourself up. We did everything we could."

"I suppose." He continued to stare grimly at the newspaper. "It's just…"

"I know, love."

James stood up. "I'd better go, then. Do you mind if I take the _Prophet_ to headquarters?"

"If you think it'll help, go ahead."

"Thanks, honey." He kissed her swiftly and left the kitchen, pulling on his cloak as he did so. "I'll keep you posted today, okay? Look out for Prongs!"

And he was gone.

Not a minute had gone by when Lily heard a tap at the kitchen window. She turned her head to see an owl fluttering outside. Lily frowned. The owl was unfamiliar but she let it in and examined the small package attached to its leg.

It was addressed to her. She cast all the curse-detection spells she knew, but when they all turned out negative, she was forced to concede it was safe. Careful not to rip the brown wrapping, she opened the package.

Inside was a large stack of folded parchment. Each piece was addressed to "Cody" in the round, careful script of a thirteen year-old girl.

Lily smiled sadly.

* * *

Professor Snape stalked back through the halls. His mood was about as cheery as a November day in Scotland. It was just like Albus to praise the Potter boy. Like father, like son, he had no respect for authority but was molly-coddled by all. He felt like kicking something.

Ah, bad idea. Now he was in a foul mood and his foot hurt. This day was turning out to be just wonderful.

When he reached his rooms he poured himself a healthy measure of cognac. When that was finished he poured himself another. And when that was finished he flung himself into his chair by the fireplace. He tried reading, but he ended up skimming the same paragraph over and over, so he tossed the book aside. That damn Potter boy's face kept pervading his mind. He had the same features, the same too-messy hair, even the same voice as James.

Who cared that he had no exceptional magical talent? He was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived -– heaven forbid if you did not worship the very ground he walked on.

He would not allow himself to admit that Albus might be right as per usual. He knew if he considered the notion he might concede the boy was more akin to Lily than James in personality. She too was shy yet proud, even from day one. But he did not want to admit defeat; it wasn't in his nature.

Why had he even taken this job? He could have been strictly a N.E.W.T level teacher. Or maybe a caretaker, like Filch. But no. He had to teach idiot children the most dangerous subject Hogwarts had to offer. Oh, joy of joys.

Severus stood and poured himself a third glass. He sat and stared into the empty fireplace, contemplating. He realized it was not the boy himself that made him want to tear his hair out. It was the fact that it was Lily's eyes that stared up at him from James Potter's face. And now he would be forced to look at him every day and be constantly reminded of his failure. If not for the terrible pull the Dark Arts had had on him from the very beginning, then maybe things would have turned out different.

But it was like Albus said, after all. It was no use lingering on what might have been or what he should have done. The best thing Severus could do now was to watch over the child Lily had wanted so dearly. It was the only way he could feel at all productive in his efforts to repay his debt to her. He had made a vow, after all: nothing that happened would keep them apart. If that meant keeping charge over her child, then so be it.

He stood, stretched, and left to oversee the Weasley twins' detention.

* * *


End file.
